America's Watching Big Brother, But Not Much To See

We've all been invited to peep at 10 people who have volunteered to live together nonstop for three months, under constant surveillance by 28 cameras and 60 microphones. Not only must they endure one another, they must live without many creature comforts (dishwashers, clothes dryers) and without contact with the outside world (no computers, television, telephone or newspapers). They can swim in the backyard pool, grow vegetables in the garden and gather eggs from their CBS-supplied chickens.

Already a hit in Europe, Big Brother originally was scheduled to begin Thursday night. But CBS advanced the premiere one day to take advantage of the popularity of its other "reality" show, Survivor. The strategy paid off: Big Brother's debut drew an impressive audience estimated at 22.4 million viewers, a modest dip from lead-in Survivor, which averaged just under 24 million viewers.

Survivor, however, is shown only one night a week. We can watch people in the Big Brother house constantly: five nights a week on television, in both live and taped broadcasts (tonight's 8 p.m. show will recap the week's events), and nonstop on the Internet.

We can even participate. Every two weeks the home audience votes (by telephone) to evict one of the residents and ultimately determines which of three finalists wins the $500,000 grand prize.

Is this the end of civilization as we know it?

Hard to tell from the Wednesday night one-hour premiere, which was a giant tease. The contestants spent most of the hour traveling on the streets of Los Angeles. While waiting for their arrival at the house, the hostess-anchor, Julie Chen, explained and exclaimed with relentless enthusiasm. (Chen is a newscaster on The Early Show; her credibility may never recover from this.)

"The show has already rocked several countries in Europe," she hyperbolized. Then she presented a montage of video clips from the European editions. Judging from these, here's what we have to look forward to: conga lines, deodorant spritzing, leg shaving, smooching, fighting, more smooching, pillow fighting, X-rated smooching (under wiggling comforters).

While waiting for the caravan to arrive, Chen introduced the contestants, who appear in brief taped biographies, with commentary from friends and family. Her co-host, Ian O'Malley, gave a tour of the house and its hidden cameras.

Neither host is nearly as odd as the people who have volunteered to lock themselves in the house for national exhibition. There's Jamie, crowned Miss Washington, USA, (described as "a beauty queen with a 4.0 average"), who declares that she was sorry to miss "community service and things like that."

From the Midwest comes George, seen posing in the snow in boxer shorts and nothing else. He says that if America can get a thrill at looking at an overweight, hairy guy walking around in his underwear, "have at it!"

One young man lost his leg to cancer as a child; another lost his mother. A buff-looking woman competes in triathlons and is writing a book, but she earns her living as an exotic dancer. A mother of four says she needs a break from her kids. Hasn't she heard of a spa?

Finally the contestants arrived. The annoying Chen herded them to the front of the house, through a cheering gaggle of friends and family. As the Big Brother group awkwardly kissed loved ones so long and blinked at the lights, it became apparent that this show will be tackier and creepier than Survivor.

In the middle of the night I peeked at the contestants on the Internet, at bigbrother2000.com, to see if any comforters were rustling suspiciously. After a half-hour, I was rewarded only by a shift in position by one of the men. This bizarre gimmick illustrates yet again how desperate the networks are for ratings.